What Divine Intelligence

"Hey." Remi said softly. Though the alchemist moved quietly enough, he knew more than enough of Sam's powers as an ascended to know that he hadn't a chance of sneaking up on his friend. Not that he was trying to, mind. The alchemist's thoughts were a blur of ronin isn't better, ronin isn't better, ronin isn't better. A cacophony of failure, of dead ends and hard truths that Remi didn't want to face. Killing the plants hadn't worked. Ronin now had less than a season...and Sam? Well. Sam was the key. Though whether his coppery-haired once-friend was the key to his husband's salvation or to the alchemist's own personal hell, he had no idea. "Thank you...for this." He added coming to stand next to the bookmaker. Remi's too-pale eyes looked weary and impossibly sad (ronin isn't better, ronin isn't better, ronin isn't better). REMI I forgot what it was like, to think I found you finding me